


I'm Just a Circus Freak

by white_crayon



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Circus, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Angst, Conjoined Papyrus and Sans, Dom W. D. Gaster, Eventual Smut, Fluff, I'm Going to Hell, M/M, Multi, Sub Papyrus, Sub Sans, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-10-12 00:19:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10477827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/white_crayon/pseuds/white_crayon
Summary: Sans and Papyrus are conjoined twins, joined at the hip. They share a pelvis, their legs, and a past that only one can remember. Having been traded to the circus at a young age by their parents, Sans takes a protective roll in making sure his brother is safe and oblivious to their childhood. When an old face shows up at their circus under the roll of physician, Sans needs to decide whether that mission is worth ignoring the obvious attraction to the skeleton he wishes he could forget.Gaster is the Royal Scientist, but when he heard that the travelling circus was looking for a new doctor for the members of the "Freak Show," he immediately applied. The twins are bigger than when he last saw them, and even though Sans seems to be wary of him, Papyrus is, as always, a trusting beam of sunlight. He fights the urges he has towards the twins as he knows that an intimate relationship would be both impossible and unhealthy, especially after what happened when they were children. However, as the three become closer and Papyrus starts to mature, both those feelings and the fact that Papyrus can't forget forever become more inevitable.





	1. Beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [On my sweet sixteenth, will you take me to the circus?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7085998) by [othersin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/othersin/pseuds/othersin). 



> I am absolutely in love with this AU, but it's a little tedious to write, so the updates may not be as frequent as Soul Lullaby. I have a specific plot for this story, but I might upload little noncanon oneshots that'll be a mixture of fluff and smut. Probably smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Age 13

“No! Absolutely not!”  
Papyrus jumped at the hand slamming on the table, but Sans crossed his arms and glared. “Why?”  
“Because it’s too dangerous!” Undyne matched his intensity, glaring with a ferocity that would’ve scared the lions. “I don’t care what you think you can do. The answer is no!”  
“You’re not the boss of us!” Sans yelled, clenching his fists in defiance.  
She started to retort, but was cut of with a sharp voice. “She may not be, but I am,” The ringmaster said, arms crossed and face crosser. “Undyne is right to be concerned. You two aren’t ready for such advanced tricks.”  
Sans was about to make a snappy remark, but there was a sharp prod to his ribs. Papyrus spoke up, voice trembling. “But, Mister Ringmaster, sir, we’ve been practicing! Celia’s been giving us lessons, and we’ve gotten really good!”  
All of the people in the room turned to look at the tightrope-walker, who was in the corner desperately trying to make herself smaller. The ringmaster, an intimidating man by himself with his tall stature and menacing black moustache, looked ten times scarier as he tipped his chin towards her. “You’ve been...letting them...on the tightrope?” He said, his voice low and dangerously calm. Celia, a tiny young woman with mousy brown hair, hunched forwards and ducked her head.  
“Th-They wanted to learn,” She whispered. “They were really excited...I thought I could show them the basics...”  
“And we’re really, really good!” Papyrus cut in, leaning forward excitedly. “We can make it all the way across, and we can stand on one leg, and--“  
“I’ll hear no more of it,” The ringmaster shouted, causing Papyrus to shrink back in fear. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You aren’t experienced enough. Just stick to what you’re good at.”  
“We aren’t a baby bones anymore,” Sans argued, making a last, futile attempt to win the already lost argument. “We’re almost fourteen! We can do stuff on our own instead of just standing around telling jokes!” He looked desperately over to Grillby. “C’mon, Grillbz. You believe us, right?”  
The fire monster crossed his arms and looked down, refusing to meet his eyes. There was a heavy silence in the room.  
“This conversation is over.” The ringmaster crossed his arms, looking sternly around the ring of humans and monsters. “Everyone, back to your tents, Except Celia.”  
Slowly, reluctantly, the motley group filtered out of the room. Sans muttered an apologetic, “Sorry,” to a petrified-looking Celia, before they walked past her out of the tent.  
The circus after hours was a sight not many were lucky enough to see. Alphys and Undyne walked toward their tents, arm in arm, talking quietly. A few of the other performers were wondering around, smoking cigars or having a chat. The stars were out in full tonight, and since the circus was a fair ways away from the town and the train station, they had a clear view of the night sky. The lanterns that were posted around the tents were starting to go out.  
They’d made it halfway across the field before Sans noticed that Papyrus was being unusually quiet. He threw an arm around his brother’s shoulders. “What’s the matter, Paps? Cat got your tongue?”  
Catty, who had been walking past them at that moment, glared at him. He gave her a nervous smile and waved. Papyrus snorted.  
“Good timing.”  
Sans chuckled. “What can I say, I’m a charmer.”  
They walked in silence for a little longer before Papyrus spoke again. “I don’t get it.”  
Sans glanced at him. “What don’t you get?”  
Papyrus sighed and looked down. “Mister Ringmaster is always saying how he doesn’t want us to get hurt and things like that but...I don’t know.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It doesn’t feel like he really...cares about us.”  
Sans fell silent, trying to think of a way to explain to his brother.  
“Some people...” He sighed and pulled Papyrus closer. “Some people care more about what people like us can do for them than who they are.”  
Papyrus didn’t answer. Sans forced a grin on his face and pulled his head closer, rubbing his knuckles into his skull. “C’mon, bro, lighten up. It’s Christmas soon, and I hear they’re gonna start putting up...twinsel.”  
It took a moment for Papyrus to get it, and when he did, he clocked Sans on the back of the head. “SANS!” He exclaimed indignantly, and was met with only an amused chuckle.  
“Grillby helped me think of that one. You could say it was a...joint effort.”  
Papyrus crossed his arms and turned his head. “I am no longer talking to you.”  
“That’s okay,” Sans said with a wink. “I wasn’t feeling a connection anyways.”  
“SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANS!!!”  
\---  
Hours later, as they were laying in the dark, Sans couldn’t seem to close his eyes. He lay there, staring at the ceiling as thoughts swirled around in his head. He had an idea...  
“Papyrus,” he whispered. No answer. He looked beside him into darkness. “Pap. Papyrus.”  
“Mmmph...what?” Came the soft voice of his brother. “‘M trying to sleep.”  
“I know, I know,” Sans said quickly, “but listen. I was thinking...”  
He explained his plan. He could see the outline of Papyrus in the dark, and reached out to where he thought his face was.  
There were several long moments of silence as Papyrus thought. “I suppose...I suppose it could work,” He said after a while. “But--“  
“I know,” Sans said hurriedly, “But don’t you think it could be worth a shot? Show people what we can really do?”  
There was another silence, in which Sans waited nervously for Papyrus to respond. Finally, he turned to face him, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s do it.”  
Sans grinned. “I knew I could count on you.”  
Papyrus snorted. “Well, it’s not as if I could walk away.”  
“When you’re right, you’re right.” Sans closed his eyes and finally allowed himself to drift off. “Night, bro.”  
“Goodnight Sans.”  
\---  
The following day was busy and loud. It was the biggest turnout they’d had in that town for a long time. Sans and Papyrus were woken early, as the sun was barely above the horizon. There was still a layer of fog over everything, but they didn’t get a chance to admire the view before they were being bustled off.  
They did a warm-up and a practice run, going over all of the acts in brief detail and preparing for any bumps that might come up. Even though the circus didn’t start until seven that evening, there was still a lot to do, like set up the tents, make the food, get the props all ready and up. The children ran about, screaming and chasing each other with stray props. For the freaks, the time before the performance meant checkups to make sure they were in good health and ready to do their acts. Papyrus and Sans sat on the table in a specially-made gown to accompany both of them as they waited for the doctor.  
“I’m cold,” Papyrus complained, reaching behind him to try and cover his bare back. “Why is this thing so...open?”  
“‘Cause the Doc’s gotta examine us. You know that.”  
He grimaced and folded his hands. “I know. It’s just kind of...uncomfortable.”  
Sans sighed and leaned back on his hands. “Yeah, I know. It’ll be over soon.”  
The door squeaked open and the twins looked over, expecting to see their usual human doctor. The man who stepped through, however, was a tall, slim skeleton wearing a crisp white coat over his shirt and slacks. He was looking over a clipboard, reading glasses perched on his nasal ridge, but after a moment he looked up and smile.  
“Hello.”  
Sans’ mouth fell open. He recognized this monster.  
Papyrus nudged Sans in the ribs, leaning over to whisper to him. “Sans! Who is that?”  
The doctor smiled warmly, setting his clipboard down on the counter. “You don’t remember me, Papyrus? Ah well, I suppose it can’t be helped after such a long absence. My name is Doctor Gaster.”  
“He used to be our doctor before we joined the circus,” Sans explained, trying not to look at the doctor. They had both been very young when their parents died, but before that, Dr. Gaster had been their family physician. He was a very nice man, shame to anyone who thought otherwise, but Sans had reason to be wary. A reason that Papyrus maybe didn’t remember.  
As a child, he was incredibly protective of Papyrus, especially as their parents were less than great. Being the children of a wealthy and powerful family sounded like a cushy lifestyle, but not when you’re born a mistake. The parents had no love for their mutated children, and left them in a room with a nanny for most of their young lives. The only contact from the outside world they had was from the maids (who only ducked in to clean and ducked back out), the nanny (who was a royal pain in the coccyx), and Dr. Gaster.  
Compared to everyone else the two had met, the doctor was by far the nicest. Despite that, he was employed and trusted by their parents, and anyone their parents thought was trustworthy turned out to be the opposite.  
Gaster turned around with a smile, pulling on some gloves. “Yes, I was your physician for a few years,” He said, pulling the stethoscope up to his ears. “Now, we can chat later, but right now I need to examine you to make sure you’re ready for the performance.”  
Papyrus grinned, and Sans forced himself to smile as well. There was no sense in reliving their childhood now.  
The doctor checked their magic levels and reflexes, making sure their HP was at full. He didn’t comment at Sans’ low Hope level, which he was grateful for. Finally, after checking their weight and height on the scale and shining a bright light in their eye sockets, Dr. Gaster pulled off his gloves and smiled at the pair. “You both are in pique condition. Good luck on your show tonight!”  
Papyrus grinned, having already taken a liking to the doctor. “Thank you, Dr. Gaster sir!”  
“Yeah, thanks,” Sans mumbled, not meeting his eyes. The two waited until the doctor was out of the room to change back into their regular clothes.  
Papyrus undoubtedly sensed that something was awry with his twin, but something in his soul told him to just leave it alone. Sans would sometimes fall into periods of unexplained silence, staring at nothing and spending hours, even days being non responsive. Their last doctor had described it as the depression of being fused to his sibling, which Sans adamantly denied. Still, Papyrus couldn’t help but feel guilty.  
A sudden voice broke him out of his thoughts. “Hey bro, we’ve got a few more hours before we need to start getting ready.” Sans was grinning at him, dark cloud apparently gone. “Wanna go steal some nice cream from the vendor?”  
Papyrus crossed his arms. “Sans, you know I don’t approve of thievery,” he chastised. Sans raised an eyebrow and waited.  
Papyrus sighed. “Though, a cold treat does sound really nice right about now...”  
The other grinned, eyes lighting up. “Great! Let’s go!”  
\---  
“Owch!”  
The annoyed circus girl huffed and put her hands on her hips. “Well I wouldn’t be poking you if you weren’t moving around so much!”  
Papyrus pouted and glared at Sans. “I would, but he’s tickling me!”  
“I’m not trying to!” Sans protested. “We don’t exactly have a lot of space here!”  
The girl, Ann, rolled her eyes and leaned forward. “Just stop moving, both of you. I just need to finish this last little spot of decals.”  
The twins glared at each other as she finished the delicate black drawings on Papyrus’ face around his eye sockets. Ann wasn’t a performer herself, but she had magic akin to a monster when it came to makeup and art. It was thanks to her that Sans and Papyrus always looked so dazzling when the lights shone on them.  
The redhead pulled back, smiling at her work. “Alright, I’m done here! I think Metta and Helen are going to be waiting for you for wardrobe.”  
With a small amount of difficulty, Sans and Papyrus slid off of the chair and waded through the crowd of excited, chattering performers to the wardrobe tent. Papyrus was grinning and practically trying to skip, already infected with the pre-show butterflies. Sans smiled at him and hooked his arm tighter around his shoulders.  
Inside the wardrobe tent, Mettaton was yelling at two poor young adults, who both looked scared out of their minds.  
“I SAID NO SECONDARY COLOURS,” The robot was shouting as they slipped inside. “THAT IS FOR MY SPRING COLLECTION!”  
“B-But you said yesterday--“  
“WELL, I DON’T THINK IT’S YESTERDAY, DARLING,” Mettaton said, crossing his arms. “GET BACK TO THE SEWING TENT AND GET ME THOSE COSTUMES!”  
The two nodded and rushed out, not even noticing the twins. Mettaton gave a robotic sigh and started rolling around, rubbing his screen. Sans cleared his throat, and he stopped and turned to face them.  
“OH! HELLO, YOU TWO!” Mettaton clasped his hands together, rolling towards them. “I HAVE SOME VERY SPECIAL COSTUMES FOR YOU TONIGHT!”  
Before either could say anything, he rolled off to a rack of costumes, rifling though them to find the right one. “YOUR COSTUMES TONIGHT ARE ABSOLUTELY SPECTACULAR! THE AUDIENCE IS GOING TO LOOOOOVE YOUUUUU!”  
Sans and Papyrus glanced at each other, trying not to smile. Mettaton had no idea...  
The robot came back with a dress covered in a sheet, carrying a pair of comfortable slippers in his hand. “GO, GO, PUT IT ON! I WANT TO SEE HOW FABULOUS IT LOOKS ON YOUUUUU!”  
A little taken back but not really surprised by his enthusiasm, the skeletons stepped behind the curtain to dress.  
Mettaton couldn’t contain his excitement. “COME OUT, BEAUTIES! LET ME SEEEEEEEE!”  
The curtain swished as the twins reappeared. They spread their arms and spun in a slow circle, displaying the beautiful satin dress. Each torso had a separate top, merging into a collective bottom where their spines met. It was a soft, gentle blue, with little white ribbons and bows to enhance the look.  
“It’s so pretty!” He gushed, beaming up at the robot. “Thank you, Mettaton!”  
Sans was smiling, smoothing the skirt out at his sides. The robot was insufferable, yes, but he had to admit that for a rectangle, he had talent.  
“OOH, YOU TWO LOOK ABSOLUTELY ADORABLE!” Mettaton clapped, his gears whirring in excitement. “OH, I’M SO GOOD AT WHAT I DO!”  
They looked at each other, trying not to laugh as Mettaton pressed his hands to his chest dramatically.  
“Okay, well we’re going to go get ready,” Papyrus said, gaining no response. Sans gestured to the door with his head, and they exited the tent.  
They were hardly ten steps out of Mettton’s tent when Celia ran up, pale and wide-eyed.  
“You two!” She hissed, grabbing Sans’ arm. “You come with me right now!”  
Before either could respond they were being half-led, half-dragged out of the centre circle by the small tightrope walker. They stumbled to keep up, holding tightly to each other’s shoulders to stay balanced, and finally were able to stop outside of her tent. She turned on them, and despite being almost a foot taller than her, both skeletons shrunk back under her livid gaze.  
“Alphys told me what you were planning to do tonight,” She whispered, glaring at them with her hands on her hips. “I can’t believe after the entire conversation we had last night, after being told by multiple people that you aren’t old enough?”  
Papyrus looked at her with tears pooling in his eye sockets. “B-But...you told us that we were getting really good...”  
She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You are. I can’t deny that the both of you are really talented and incredibly quick learners. But,” She added, seeing the look on their faces, “that doesn’t mean that you can go against everyone else and do your own thing. You’re going to get all of us in really big trouble, not to mention you could get hurt.”  
Papyrus twisted his fingers together, looking down guiltily. Sans looked at him, then back at Celia, deciding to give one last desperate attempt to explain.  
“CeCe,” He said, deliberately using her nickname--it worked, as her defences seemed to melt a little--“We’ve always been part of the freak show. We’re the ones here without any real talent. People just watch us to see how weird we look, and to wonder how such a freak of nature exists.”  
Papyrus takes his hand, and he keeps going. “But learning how to actually do something like this has showed us that we can really do something like you guys can. We can do something other than look interesting.”  
There was a moment of silence as Celia’s lip quivered. Both Papyrus and Sans looked at her, starry-eyed and hopeful.  
She sighed and ran her fingers through her made-up hair. “Okay. Okay, okay fine!”  
The skeletons looked at each other elatedly. Celia held a finger up. “But we’re going to be extra careful. No fancy tricks, just walking to one end, a bow, then walking back, okay? If the rest of them see how good you’ve both gotten, maybe they’ll allow you to continue on with it.” She shook her head, rubbing the side of her face. “I cannot believe I’m letting you go through with this.”  
She was instantly nearly bowled over by enthusiastic hugs from the twins. “Thank you so much!” Papyrus squealed, squeezing her tightly. Sans pulled back and looked at her with a look of pure joy. “Thank you,” he whispered. The acrobat rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “Alright, alright. Go get yourselves set up for performance. I’ll be right there if anything goes wrong."  
She kissed both of them on the top of the head before walking off, disappearing into the sea of circus workers.  
Papyrus was still holding Sans’ hand, and he looked over at him. His brow was furrowed, and he was looking after Celia nervously. Sans squeezed his hands, and he looked down at him.  
“It’s gonna be okay,” he promised, giving him a reassuring smile. Papyrus tried to smile back, but the worry was still evident in his eyes.  
Sans opened his mouth to say something more, but was interrupted by the horn that signalled the performers to take their places. The two hurried off, holding each other’s shoulders tightly. They got into their positions in the cramped waiting area, squished between the other performers who were speaking in hushed whispers. Papyrus and Sans were still holding onto each other, and Sans gave his shoulders a comforting squeeze. Then all of the lights went out, and the show began.  
\---  
Normally when Gaster attended shows, he would sit in the reserved box so he wouldn’t have to interact with people. The circus, however, was a different atmosphere. There were no private boxes, just hard, uncomfortable seats next to whatever random stranger happen to have a similar ticket number. He slid into his seat that was of course in the middle of the row, clutching his bag of cheap caramel popcorn. Trying to ignore the loudly talking people on either side of him, he slouched down slightly in his chair as the spotlight shone on the ringmaster.  
“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls,” The man said loudly, spreading his arms to the audience, “and welcome to the one, the only, Ebott Travelling Circus!”  
The crowd roared with applause and cheering as the lights flashed and music blared from somewhere. Gaster winced at the loud noise, but smiled and gave polite applause anyways.  
Unfortunately, the noise didn’t improve as the show went on. The circus had a very unique atmosphere, however, and he found himself enjoying himself more and more. Finally, it was time for the “Freak Show.”  
It had been a very, very long time since he’d last seen Sans and Papyrus, and he had to admit that they had grown up quite beautiful. The thought startled him, but didn’t necessarily surprise him. They were skeletons, after all, and there weren’t much left among the monster community. He supposed it was just instinct that he would experience attraction towards the only other living ones of his kind he knew.  
The majority of the Freak Show contained monsters, but that was a given. Prejudice towards monsters had always been a common theme, and they couldn’t see it giving up anytime soon. It seemed like the twins were the main event, because they didn’t come on until the very end of the lineup.  
Gaster found himself grinning as he watched the skeletons’ act. It was mostly to show off the twins and their mutation, but it had some cheesy jokes and a hint of theatrics. The audience, mostly made up of humans, was eating it up, laughing and groaning and engaging. A few other characters made appearances, but Gaster only had eyes for Papyrus and Sans. It was at the end of their performance, however, that the twist came.  
It seemed a little odd that the lights didn’t follow them as they crossed the ring, headed straight for the tightrope. The audience quieted, then started mumbling amongst themselves. The doctor assumed that it was due to the lighting issues, until all of the other performers started looking at each other and murmuring. He frowned and leaned over to the woman next to him.  
“What is happening?” He whispered. She looked at him, looking equal parts concerned and excited. “I don’t know.”  
“But isn’t this part of their show?” He watched them climbing the ladder to the tightrope, looking nervously at the ground.  
The lady shook her head, still with excitement in her eyes. “No. They’ve never done this before.”  
Gaster stared at her for a moment, not comprehending what she was saying. He was about to ask again, but a commotion seemed to be happening in the ring.  
The ringmaster was running out, shouting something that he couldn’t hear. The lights had swung around and there was now a spotlight on the skeletons, casting the other, shell-shocked performers into shadow.  
There was a collective breath from the audience as they took the first step...then another. Gaster watched holding a breath that he technically didn’t need, hands clenched in his lap.  
They made it a quarter way...then halfway...then wobbled and everyone gasped. They made it the rest of the way with a few more quivers, ending up at the cut-off of the rope. They did a quick bow, looking out into the audience and grinning. Gaster could see the pride on their faces, and he couldn’t help the loving smile that appeared on his face. They had come so far, they really had.  
The staff had ran out and come back with an old mattress, which they laid under the rope. It almost seemed like they didn’t need it, as they made it to the halfway point relatively fast and with no problems. But right at the end, a few steps away from safety, some woman in the crowd was apparently overcome with suspense, let out a scream.  
As if in slow motion, Papyrus whipped his head around. Sans let out a yell as the movement unbalanced them and they slipped, catching briefly on the rope before plunging to the ground.  
Now everybody was screaming, covering their eyes as the skeletons fell from the rope down, down down...Gaster shot to his feet, and without thinking, sprinted out of the audience and down to the door. A guard tried to stop him, but he yelled something along the lines of, “I’m their doctor!” and pushed past him.  
Sans and Papyrus had fallenn to the mattress and were laying limp, not moving. They were surrounded by Circus staff, but Gaster shoved them aside and knelt down at the mattress.  
“Somebody get me my bag!” He shouted. A cat monster ran out, returning a moment later with the black bag. He opened it and checked their vitals, as everyone else watched. After a moment, he sighed and slumped in relief. “They’re fine,” He announced, and everyone visibly relaxed. A few of the performers buried their faces in their hands. The yellow reptilian monster turned to the water performer and let out a soft sob. A small human woman, the actual tightrope walker, pushed through the crowd of performers.  
“Why aren’t they waking up, then?” She demanded. Gaster felt himself shrink back a little at her intensity, but he cleared his throat and kept a calm demeanour.  
“The fall shocked them,” he explained, “causing a temporary lack of consciousness. They should wake up shortly. For now, we just need to give them space and somewhere to lie while they recover. There’s a possibility of a minor fracture, I’ll assess them more thoroughly once back in their own tent. Until then, get them out of here and to their own quarters.”  
A few of the stronger performers picked up the mattress, skeletons and all, and carried it off. The ringmaster and a few of the other circus staff had dispersed to calm the audience and end the show.  
Gaster sighed and allowed himself a moment of weakness to rest his face in his palms. Then he composed himself, stood, and followed the others out of the ring.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little add-on from the last chapter \\(^-^)/ Enjoy Shithead Sans and Precious Pap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Age 13  
> Just so you know, this book is going to be laid out in a non-chronological order, and I'll put the age of the twins in the beginning in each one.

Waking up before Papyrus was always strange. They were always together, always one. When Sans was awake and Papyrus wasn’t, everything was silent. It was the closest thing he could imagine to being alone.  
This time, however, he wasn’t alone. It took him a moment, especially after the bump to the head, to focus on the room around them. They were propped up on two pillows, sitting up slightly. Sans was grateful for that; it gave him something to look at other than the ceiling. Instead, his gaze fell on a tall figure dozing in a chair by the caravan wall.  
When he was awake enough to process the image, he froze. Doctor Gaster was slumped down in the chair, skull nodding against his chest with his arms folded across his stomach. Normally Sans would’ve grinned at the sight of someone so composed and poised sprawled out like a puppet with its strings cut, but he couldn’t muster a smile as he stared at the doctor.  
He sat up as much as he could, looking out the tiny window at the sky outside. It was dark, stars twinkling in the inky blackness, so he couldn’t tell if they’d been asleep for days or only hours.  
There was a sound near the wall, and Sans turned. Dr. Gaster was sitting up, rubbing his skull with his hand. His glasses were askew, the strap holding them to his head off-kilter. He blinked a few times before noticing Sans staring at him. There was a moment of silence between the two as they locked eyes, a heavy tension settling. It was so similar to that day...  
Papyrus mumbled as he stirred, brow furrowing. Both Sans and the doctor looked down at him as he slowly opened his eyes.  
“Did we win?” He asked groggily. His voice resonated in the quiet room, breaking the tension. The atmosphere lightened, and Sans laid back down beside him.  
“You betcha,” he said, grinning affectionately at his brother. The doctor cleared his throat, and they both looked up.  
“On the contrary, you fell sixty feet into a decade-old mattress, knocked yourself unconscious, and ruined your lovely dress.” Gaster flicked on a cigarette lighter to light the lantern, turning back to the twins with a stern look on his face. “Appropriately, your friends are quite upset.”  
Papyrus looked down, ashamed, but Sans glared at the doctor. “You don’t know us. We could’ve made it across.”  
“It doesn’t matter if you could’ve,” Gaster said, irritation seeping into his tone. “The fact is that you didn’t. Thank the stars neither of you have any broken bones, but your right ankle is sprained and you have quite a few bruises between the two of you, as well as considerable knots on your heads from the landing. Frankly, I’m surprised it wasn’t worse.”  
The daggers Sans shot the doctor from his eyes were almost visible. Papyrus looked between the two of them, very obviously confused.  
Gaster sighed and bent over to dig in his medical bag. “The point is, that stunt that you two pulled was incredibly dangerous. I hope you’ve both learned your lesson.”  
“You aren’t our dad,” Sans snapped. “You’re not even our regular doctor! You’re just a stupid replacement doctor that doesn’t know anything!”  
“Sans!” Papyrus exclaimed, shocked. “That’s no way to talk to an acquaintance!”  
The scolding seemed to dull down Sans’ anger, but did nothing to soften the glare. Sans puffed his cheeks out and turned away as well as he could.  
The doctor frowned, but didn’t say anything more on the subject. He fastened the stethoscope to his earholes and took a seat by the bed.  
“I may not be your father, but I am your doctor,” he said cooly, trying not to lose his temper with the vivacious child. “And my job is to make sure the two of you are in good health, whether you like it or not. That includes discouraging unhealthy behaviour, like walking on a string sixty feet in the air without informing anybody of your intentions. Now, are you going to lie still and let me take your vitals or am I going to have to restrain you?”  
As it turned out, Sans was intent on making Gaster’s job as difficult as possible. He squirmed, glared, clamped his mouth shut and was (to be frank) dead set on being an annoying little shit. To his benefit, he listened when Papyrus patiently asked him to follow the doctor’s orders after the third of fourth time of Gaster repeating himself. The other twin was a delight, smiling and being compliant with whatever Gaster asked of him, if not just a tad bit squirmy during the ribcage examination. Essentially, the two were still polar opposites, which lent itself to as many annoyances as it did endearments. The twins had woken up somewhere around twelve, and the examination didn’t finish until well past one in the morning. By the time Gaster packed his equipment away, all three of them were exhausted, worn out, and more than a little bit irritated with each other, Sans more than any of them. As soon as the word was given that everything was clear, he flopped down on the bed, pulling Papyrus with him, and refused to speak or even acknowledge the doctor further. Papyrus apologized for him, explaining that his brother wasn’t usually like this. Gaster could do nothing but smile tiredly and bid the skeletons goodnight. As he closed the caravan door behind him, he couldn’t help but hear a muffled conversation between the twins.  
“--I just don’t understand why you’re making things so difficult for the doctor!”  
“Because Paps, he’s talking about us like--like he knows us. He doesn’t know us!”  
“But he’s our doctor. Even you said that he knew us as children.”  
Sans went silent at that, and Gaster sighed and walked down the makeshift steps. He understood Sans’ hostility towards him, but that didn’t make it any easier to put up with him. He walked down the lonely path towards the exit, staring up at the stars. “I’ll wait until next time to tell them my position is permanent,” he mused to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. This is a little late isn't it? I'm going to be updating more frequently (I hope), but there is a little thing called Life that's getting in the way. I'll try I'm sorry!!  
> Also I read through my last chapter and realized how many mistakes I made, so I'll be fixing that sometime in the future. I was under a little bit of self-pressure to get the chapter out and didn't spend much time editing.


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